


Cigarettes, Pocket Watches, Paintbrushes, and Briefcases.

by SirEskimoChuck



Series: Forget-Me-Not'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Not Related, M/M, Not brothers, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:38:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirEskimoChuck/pseuds/SirEskimoChuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:  Cigarettes, Pocket Watches, Paintbrushes, and Briefcases. 4 Short oneshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Cigarette

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are the first of many Michael/Gabriel oneshots in my new series! I changed the first prompt I used at least five times. Eventually I decided to do four very short oneshots that kind of introduce the characters.

  1. **A Cigarette**



 

Gabriel Novak was a smoker and that fact alone drove Michael Shurley insane. Why? Simple, he was a health freak that cared far too much about his friends lifestyle. Gabriel’s small apartment and terrible furniture were bad enough without the smell of smoke that clung to everything it could.

 

Michael wasn’t a doctor or anything but he did know a few things and therefore always felt the need to share facts concerning Gabriel’s unhealthy living style. This of course wasn’t exactly helpful. Michael kept trying though because he was stubborn like that.

 

“Gabriel, smoking is the cause of 1 in 5 deaths in the United States alone.  Tobacco use is also the leading preventable cause of death, did you know that?” Michael asked one morning as the two men sat at Gabriel’s tiny dining table for breakfast.

“Wow, how fascinating, Michael. The more you know, huh?” Gabriel replied sarcastically. He rolled his eyes to show just how much he didn’t care. This caused the other man to scowl before he took a sip of the cheap coffee his friend had made.  It tasted like shit but coffee was coffee and it would have to do.

“You really don’t care about your health do you?” Michael sighed before placing the purple mug back down on the old wooden table. Gabriel leaned back in his chair and frowned at the other.

“Seriously Mike, I’m hardly a heavy smoker. It is a stress thing, okay. Plus I’ve cut down on the amount I smoke since graduating high school. Not all of us were honor students and had life easy,” Gabriel said a little harsher than he had meant to but fuck it, Michael was being an ass. However, the long pause which followed his comment did start to make Gabriel worry that he had gone a little too far. After all, Michael’s pride was easily wounded.

 

“You could have asked me for help with school work you know,” Michael had finally replied. Gabriel only laughed half-heartedly.

“By the time I was in high school you had already graduated and moved out of Kansas to go to Harvard.”

“Oh,” the older of the two men began. “I guess you are right.”

 

Gabriel reached for the open Marlboro box which lay on the table in amongst the mess of papers and books. He pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his teeth before grabbing the lighter out of his pocket. There was no hesitation as the smoke was lit. 


	2. A Pocket Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has a thing for patterns. He lives by them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops it has been a while hasn't it? I'm seriously going to keep trying to write for this little verse because it's fun and I really need to break my year long writer block. Seriously I have to or I might die from frustration.

**2.** ** A Pocket Watch **

 

Michael was the sort of man who carried around a pocket watch; a golden pocket watch to be exact. Gabriel often wondered if he was really some sort of time traveler from the turn of the century because he sure acted like it. Michael was classy. Michael was professional. Michael was a rich pretty boy who never had to work for a damn thing. And for all Gabriel knew Michael wore a suit to bed because he was pretty much always wearing a suit.  Or some variation of a suit, like a dress shirt with a bland tie. All of Michael’s ties were simple and only had one colour to them. Gabriel’s ties on the other hand always had some sort of funky design that made the other want to yank it off his neck and shred it and then set fire to the remains.  Yes, Michael had seriously once used that threat when Gabriel wore a checkered tie to a work Christmas party he was invited to; well he was more forced to go because Michael hadn’t wanted to suffer alone. What a jackass.

 

To most people Michael Shurley’s flat would reflect nothing about him. There weren’t very many personal things other than a few photos of his family. However, Gabriel wasn’t most people so he could see the little pieces of the other all around his minimalistic home.  There was a pattern to the way Michael did things.  That rule just wasn’t centered on the way he designed his home. It also applied to everything in his life.  Michael was on time. Michael was organized. Michael liked to make people think he was practically perfect in every way, which of course he wasn’t but you had to be close to him to know that. It was the times that the pattern was broken that Gabriel liked Michael just a little bit more than usual.

 

They were supposed to meet at three for coffee because Gabriel and Michael were the type to drink coffee whenever and wherever they could.  The difference was that Michael, being the prissy little rich boy he was, liked frilly coffee with caramel and foam whereas Gabriel liked his coffee simple and with nothing added to it. When Michael showed up at the café it was fifteen minutes after three. Gabriel would be a liar if he said he hadn’t been glued to his watch for fifteen whole minutes. Michael being late was a rare event.  In his mind, being late was bad enough to be a crime. So when the older of the two did arrive he was out of breath and his normally perfect hair was out of place. Gabriel almost wanted to take a picture of his friend. Seeing him like this was just priceless. He was a mess. 

 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Gabriel,” Michael spoke quickly. He then sunk into his chair in what might be defined as defeat. “Traffic was crazy today.”

Gabriel just smiled and shrugged before taking a sip of his coffee.  


	3. A Paintbrush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so insulting Gabriel's art was a one way ticket to getting every white shirt Michael owned covered in paint.

**3.** ** A Paintbrush **

 

Gabriel wasn’t the best painter. Hell, he wasn’t even a good painter but he had fun painting so critics could fuck off.  Michael had always found it funny how uptight the other got when his work was questioned.  Once when he had been bugging Gabriel about some ugly thing he had painted it almost got him a punch in the face.  After that, he had shut up pretty fast because a black eye was the last thing he needed the day before a very important training session at work. Michael was always trying to leave a flawless first impression; he had told Gabriel that being on a persons good sides benefited him in the end. Gabriel had just rolled his eyes before making a witty comment about how much he didn’t care.

 

Looking back on it, Michael was positive that he was either exhausted or had gone momentarily crazy because one summer day he had walked into Gabriel’s apartment and made a really stupid choice. If Gabriel had been looking at his friend when he walked in he was sure to make a witty comment because Michael had no jacket and his white button up had its sleeves rolled up just below the elbows. In a way, it was scandalous for Michael to be looking so improper. However, Gabriel didn’t turn around. The two men were comfortable enough around each other that they let their guards down.  So when Michael approached and laughed at the painting he was making his first mistake. He hadn’t noticed the way Gabriel’s shoulders tensed and his expression quickly turned bitter. It was a warning sign that was screaming “say another word and I will destroy you.” But Michael, who shouldn’t have been so stupid, decided to do the worst thing he could have ever done and make a witty remark about the painting.

“That honestly looks like a horse’s ass.”

 

It had been harmless. Hell, it wasn’t even the truth. Yet Gabriel took it as a personal offense. If Michael had been in his right mind he would have seen what happened next coming, but he didn’t. As soon as the words had left his lips Gabriel spun around and hit him in the chest with a paintbrush covered in bright red paint. For a second both men were frozen in mutual shock. Then Michael’s expression shifted. It wasn’t anger like the younger of the two had expected. Michael Shurley smirked. He smirked and it was absolutely terrifying. It was the sort of smirk that made your life flash before your eyes because you were probably just about to be murdered. It was one of those ‘oh shit’ moments because before Gabriel could turn and run screaming he had paint smeared across his face. Michael had grabbed a glob of it from the tube on the table and had proceeded to wipe it off on the other. That was how “the great paint war”, as both fondly called it, began.

 

The paint war ended with a lot of mess to clean up.  There was paint everywhere. After hours and hours of scrubbing at the floors, walls, and furniture Gabriel and Michael gave in and flopped over on the couch. What was left of the paint, they decided, was never coming off.  Neither would ever admit it but they were both glad. The paint splattered walls served as little reminder that they looked back on with fond smiles.


End file.
